


One Last Dance

by MarshmallowMcGonagall



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, F/M, Malfoy Manor, Masquerade Ball, Slow Dancing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-18
Updated: 2020-03-18
Packaged: 2021-03-01 03:01:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,325
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23198257
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MarshmallowMcGonagall/pseuds/MarshmallowMcGonagall
Summary: Draco asks Hermione to dance at the Masquerade Ball.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy
Kudos: 6





	One Last Dance

The red silk crumpled beneath his hand on her waist. The stiff black fabric of his dress robes was unforgiving at her touch as her hand rested on his shoulder. Their free hands held the other’s. Her protests stopped when he pointed out his night was to be spent dancing with more guests than he cared to count. He was simply being a good host when he asked for this dance. He began to lead her around the quiet corner of the ballroom he found her in. Music from the band swirled around them as they watched each other from behind disguises tied on with ribbon. Behind intricate masks of red and black, the whisper of a notion that they had somewhere to hide.

Moments grabbed, taking her by the hand even when no music played, he had led her in a waltz too often for her not to know the steps. He would lead her across the polished floors when they were in pyjamas or half dressed. When she just wore his shirt shrugged over her underwear. When she was on tip toes because her heels were elsewhere.

She pretended not to notice that he was guiding her away from the other guests, that he cast a Muffliato when they were behind one of the large marble pillars in a secluded spot, that he leaned close and said, “Don’t let go.”

Their hold on each other tightened, they turned, and when she opened her eyes they were in the grounds of the Manor, standing between stone pillars which encircled the folly a Malfoy had commissioned in centuries past. Stars shone where there were breaks in the clouds which danced around the full moon.

“Breathe, Granger,” he murmured.

“Keep dancing, Malfoy," she said, stiffly.

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath as he held her closer. Their grip on each other didn’t loosen though his hand on her waist seemed for a moment as if it were about to drift to the small of her back. He led her across the flagstones and around the pillars, and still she kept her eyes closed. Years of lessons meant each step came to him with ease and he could afford to watch her lips parting with breaths which turned to mist in the cold night air.

“Where are you?” he asked. Letting go of her waist, he spun her around, and her eyes were open when he held her closer than the dance required.

Their steps slowed until they came to a halt beneath the biggest arch of all those which surrounded the folly.

“In the wrong place,” she said, turning to look at the lake, the still waters filled with the moon’s reflection as the surrounding clouds gave a brief reprieve.

The moonlight caught the small ruby pendant she wore.

“How is your Great Aunt?” He knew the ruby was an emerald. Knew it was the necklace she told everyone was a gift from a distant relative. “I always forget her name, is it Jean or Jane?”

A flicker of a smile graced her lips before she thought to stop herself. “Jean.”

Her softly spoken incantation all but put him under a spell as he watched her lips. The ruby glowed and when the light faded an emerald lay against her skin. He leaned a fraction closer, as if to look at the gemstone more closely, and she turned her head away. More murmured words, more glowing, he took a deep breath as a ruby glinted in the moonlight. He pulled away and stepped back, turning towards the deeper shadows beneath the arches, regretting that he couldn’t see her but desperate for a moment to mouth every expletive he knew.

“Draco?”

He spun on his heel at her soft plea.

“One last dance.” She stood, wand at her side, in a gown which was no longer red to match the ruby.

“Don’t say that.” But he went straight to her, to take her hand and slip his other hand around her waist.

She raised her wand and with a few swishes and flicks, the music which was playing in the ballroom of the Manor surrounded them along with the chatter of nocturnal birds and the breeze through the trees. Another incantation and the ruby glowed. When the light faded, an emerald was nestled below her neck. He wondered if she charmed the gown to match the emerald or if the gown had been emerald all along and she had simply lifted the charm which rendered it ruby red like the glamour she first wove around the pendant when they were sixteen. She slipped her wand away and put her hand on his shoulder. And then gowns didn’t matter. Nor emeralds disguised as rubies. There was just her. Her brown eyes, surrounded by a rich green mask, shining as she followed his lead through the moonlight and shadows.

The music ended too quickly and though another piece began after a lull, they remained at a standstill, their hands on each other. Light rain began to fall beyond the pillars, bouncing off the trees in leaf and pitter-pattering against the lake.

“You have to go play host,” she said.

“Hermione - ”

She shook her head and let go of his hand in order to get her wand. Eyes closed, she twirled her wand above herself and the gown and mask returned to the red she had worn when she walked into the Manor, when she took his hand, when she didn’t let go.

He reached up to touch the emerald and whispered the incantation which would disguise it as a ruby again. He took his hand from her and couldn’t stop the bitter laugh when he saw the red gemstone against her skin. Her mouth pulled up into a sad smile and he forced himself to swallow and find a smile for her. And still his hand was upon her waist and her hand upon his shoulder.

He tightened his hold on her as he took his wand from his robes. Before he could tell her not to let go, she said, “I’m ready.”

She looked down at the lake which rippled beneath the ever more heavy rainfall and he stared at the silver chain resting on the curve of her neck below the chignon her bushy hair had been wrangled into. He wanted to know all her curves again but they were disappearing to the shadows as the clouds swept further across the moon.

“I’m not,” he confessed.

Slowly, she turned back to him. “Don’t let go,” she cautioned, before Disapparating with him. She Apparated with him to the darkened library.

She let go of him, though he tried to let himself believe her hand lingered on him.

“You need to go be a good host,” she said, turning away from him as if to look at one of the portraits in the room though there was only the moonlight to see by as rain marred the windows. “You didn’t even promise me a dance and other people will be getting inpatient for their turn.”

“What colour is your gown?”

She shook her head and didn’t turn to look at him.

He took slow steps backwards across the polished wooden floor. Then he was gone. The door closed. Footsteps gone. She turned around and cast a Homenum Revelio. Alone, twirling her wand above herself, the gown returned to its original silver. She swallowed and brought the back of her hand to her mouth. Eyes closed, she twirled her wand again and stood in the dark in ruby red. Her feet carried her in the steps he had led her in so often until she bumped into a bookcase. Eyes open, head spinning, she stumbled and fell onto a chaise longue. She rested her head against the black brocade and stared out at the moon which threatened to disappear completely as her fingers brushed the disguised emerald.


End file.
